Decimation of the 3rd Legion
Greasy smoke completely obscured the fetid field. Eyes vacant, he stumbled over a shield half-caked in dark grime. Newly disturbed soil shifted and reformed, swallowing up the refuse of conflict. Each footstep created fresh holes in the dirt. Bootprints kept their shape for mere seconds before filling with murk. Low, muffled groans were consumed by the dense fog. A milky white miasma greeted the Legionary in all directions. A muted but steady plodding cadence spoke of others wandering nearby. Just shadows in the mist, always barely too far away. Catching his toe on a wire, he pitched forward. The Legionary felt his willpower beginning to be sucked into the quagmire along with his body. A bow had been embedded in the mud, the string making a surprisingly effective tripwire. Almost mindlessly, he pushed himself back up, losing a gauntlet to the viscous ground beneath. It was a movement done out of necessity, not out of conscious intent. Echoed breathing behind his steel faceplate brought attention back to the weight surrounding his skull. Discarding the other gauntlet, he undid his chin strap and the helmet fell with a damp thud. Distant drums pulsed deep within the smog. Another shadow darted along his right. Instinctively bracing, he reached for a sword that had been dropped ages ago. He turned away blankly. It didn’t matter anymore. Maybe it never mattered. With no idea how long he wandered the field, the Legionary idly wondered if he was dead already. Vacant consideration of his hunter briefly etched the silhouette into his mind. Only humans earned the afterlife, whatever passed by had far too many limbs. Wet thuds sprayed mud; strings of damp sludge splattered across his face and chestplate. Close by, a noise like a loud exhale guided his aimless trudge. Through more sucking mud, a Contractor auxiliary struggled as she sank into the murk. She could only move her arms, looking like she was trying to swim to safety. Briefly, the wanderer considered pulling her up and out. His trapped comrade could only gasp and flail. More impacts could be heard nearby as a plummeting body landed feet away. More came down even closer. The roaming Legionary hollowly watched the rain of corpses. Panicked gasps brought him back to the crippled woman. Looking down at the slowly sinking auxiliary caused her half-drowned eyes to widen further, wheezing and desperately trying to find how to move her legs again. They locked eyes. The face of every kind of ignominious death the man had witnessed that day passed dimly through his mind. No glory, no hope, no future. He reached down to the struggling human and closed his hands around her trapped throat. After a few jerks and feeble attempts to struggle, another Legionary relaxed into the quietness of death. There wasn’t a next step after that day - this was the end. Clanking shrieks of tortured metal ruptured the posthumous calm of the field. Half of a building flew over the wanderer’s head. The stone chunk belonged to a command post or blockhouse somewhere. The Legionary reached down and unstrapped the rest of his armor - his breastplate dented, pauldrons crushed, and the proud 3rd Legion emblem, covered in mud. More perverse shadows began to cluster around, deranged semi-human likenesses silently considering him. His vision narrow, his breathing heavy, the air thickened, becoming increasingly stifling. If this actually was the afterlife, it certainly wasn’t the good one. The cloying mist slowly parted. Tremendously long but emaciated limbs reached out to pluck the corpses from their slow descent into the ravaged soil. The shrill screech of metal filled the dull soundscape as he glimpsed swinging cages, full to the brim with mutilated bodies. Some still clung hopelessly to life, but most were dead. The rusted brown-crimson bottom of the cages seeped dark tar. Thin arms snaked around to grab the carcasses. Cages hung from the creature’s waist, attached by broad hooks. The thing opened and shut its cages, sorting through the bodies. Alive or dead did not seem to matter, only its arbitrary whim. The aberrant creature gently placed corpses, or the soon to be deceased, in one of four growing piles in the cages next to its legs. A single brilliant light flashed from high above. The monstrosity looked at him. The fog was crowded, constantly in motion, and similar lights flashed with less brightness. All eyes were watching him. The emptiness of the shadows watching him seemed to burn through his closed eyes like a blazing afterimage. He sank to his knees.